


you're obnoxiously tall; i see nothing but you

by SwordintheThrone



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, High School, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26466601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordintheThrone/pseuds/SwordintheThrone
Summary: tooru's not going to stare for much longer. she and hajime are going to exit the scene, tooru's going to go his own way and that's going to be that.fine, he's a fucking liar. this fucking sucks. but he's a rational young man. he set out to conquer volleyball through a ten-part plan; he'll do the same thing now.(he's such a liar).alternatively, two boys, dealing with feelings when they suck, when they don't, when they do, and when the don't. dealing with it all[hiatus]
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	you're obnoxiously tall; i see nothing but you

**Author's Note:**

> rated m for possible signs of depression mentality  
> the kids _aren't_ alright, man, they're just tryna get by.  
> ~Sword
> 
> was written with like six different styles (the time skips were supposed to be TIME SKIPS but then we screwed it up) none of which complement each other / this is just word vomit because i cAN  
> also it was supposed to be a drabble so forgive the styling please!!  
> also unreliable narration at times yay  
> ~Rain

_step one. pretend you're not in love with him_

tooru stares across a street that might as well be an ocean

iwaizumi and mamori are holding hands. it's a chaste move, hardly a 'move' at all. a sweet silly thing little couples do. it's just the two of them, walking away, leaving tooru behind. crossing the street, walking together, walking away. leaving tooru behind. oh, he supposes they'll talk. she'll giggle, and he'll grin. they're a match made in heaven. oikawa set them up after all.

  
_step two. pretend you don't think about taking her place._

he's not some hormonal heartbroken fourteen year old going through puberty for a second, or even third round. he's not going to cry about iwaizumi and write about him in his diary when he gets home. he's not going to claim this as a chapter in his memoir (courting greatness is the title he's settled on so far) or whine to no one but himself about how he's _n e v e r_ going to be happy without iwaizumi. 

he might stare a little longer, but the couple's going to exit the scene, he's going to go his own way and that's going to be that. fine, he's a fucking liar. this fucking sucks. but he's a rational young man. he set out to conquer volleyball through a ten-part plan; he can do the same thing now. it's only iwa-chan after all.

(ah shit, that's not what he meant. he meant conquer, as in conquer his feelings _about_ iwa-chan. not...)

(he's such a liar)

so. _step three. bury the words you'll not say in a shallow grave_ ; _shallow, in case you realize you want to dig them up one day. until then, the headstone reads the date of all that you've let go of. truthfully speaking, the dead should not be disturbed but you're not sure you respect yourself enough to pretend to care._

he watches her lean in, with her flowy chocolate hair swishing over their linked hands. she looks into his eyes. tips her chin back, reaches for his, pulls him down, pulls him in - tooru doesn't care, not about this part. there's no dull disappointment to smack him around and there's no sick bubbling in his throat, waiting to spill down his front. she is very so sweet. they've been friends for two years and he's grown to like her like a little sister. they're a little different. she's someone easy to please, a little quiet and shy about her things, her likes and her preferences. she's not obnoxious or taunting or annoying. she's smart enough to know what she's entitled to.

he watches her steps slow. her head's turning, tilting to catch the magic angle between her height and his. she's looking for a kiss.

hajime follows her lead and-

tooru drops his gaze. and the dead lies where it's fallen.

_step eight, be tired of pining, be exhausted from yearning, be finished with wanting._

three months come and go. off-season begins which means more mamori-hajime, less tooru-hajime, and less volleyball, a fucking triple whammy. there's a lot of frustration with no where to direct it, and fatigue not one scalding shower can wash off.

 _huh. iwa-chan and mamori-chan are officially in a long-term relationship!_ tooru says, unpacking his bento. hajime shrugs. maybe he's wary because he doesn't want him butting in, or maybe he's really as nonchalant as he seems.

matsukawa and hanamaki look at him. hajime continues crunching up his lunch. they look away.

there's a beat of warm affection in tooru's stomach. it's a shame the two of them aren't a little dumber; if they were going to be observant, couldn't they have noticed something else like the rampant sexual tension between them??? and yet they're kind enough to not call him out on it.

 _second year starts soon_ , _huh,_ he says. it's funny to think of it that way, but he does, doesn't see it as first year coming to an end, even with exams leering over from the next few months.

 _no no no, please don't remind me_ , says mattsun. _yeah._ _pass, no thanks_ , says makki, sticking out his tongue. _i just want to spend my youth like this - looking like shit, feeling like shit...telling oikawa he's shit._

tooru loves his boys.

hajime chews and swallows. _yep._

mamori comes by before the bell. tooru leaves before it happens because he knows she will like she's done all this time. he packs up his lunch easily. wrappers go in the trash unless they're plastic, in which he then has to deliberate a little longer, but orange peels go in the compost. he wishes his feelings were disposable too. until he figures out a way to throw them out safely, they get taken home too. 

he doesn't bother remembering the actual date (he's not that crazy, yet). but it's a friday. it's a friday, that he's finally finished the three assigned readings he's piled up in chem and ready to move on to mathematics. it's eight when he stops his 'five-minute break' and opens up the old brick of a book. pages flutter by. he earns a new papercut when he's impatiently flipping, looking for the page. he's not looking for her sticky note, but it's what he finds - ' _t_ _hanks for giving me hajime, tooru-kun! i'm really glad we're friends :)'_

ah, he wishes he could say the same.

  
  


_fall back on step six. re_ _alize you're not at step eight yet, and that you started jumping steps because you thought you could rush this. so step six, admitting your problem to another person to solidify the existence._

matsukawa's house is used most for their hangouts when it's the three (or four of them, when hajime remembers he should pretend he has the courtesy to spend time with his best friends) because matsukawai's parents are cool, perpetually unperturbed. _must be, to raise a mattsun,_ tooru muses. not to say he's not screwed up like the rest of them. mattsun spends a fuck lot of time with nihilistic readings; he's kind of like tooru in this sense, in being unable to change his fate and yet finding solace by learning more, all the better to worry more. makki's less interested in being aware- tooru breaks off the thought with his lips twitching into a grey smirk- of course, no lone thing interests makki enough for him to have a steady goal to pursue.

and hajime? well he has to be fucked up somehow too, to spend so much time with them. then again, that time's bit decreasing ever since...

anyways, hajime might actually be the most normal one. whatever.

_oi,_ makki says, after three bad rounds of the new co-op game he's brought over. _you're shit at this, you know that? i'm giving up on you guys._

tooru sticks out a tongue, hanging an arm off the couch where he lies, having kicked the other two boys off. _how am i supposed to get any better if you're not going to keep practicing with me._ having given up on the game, he uses his vantage point to tug at mattsun's curls. maybe he'll braid them. 

his favorite middle blocker yawns. _why do you always sound like you're talking about volleyball?_

 _call it just another talent, dear mattsun!_ he flings himself onto the floor in front of their neatly crossed legs and lies there like a sad little sponge soaking up all of their misery. _you know what they say: ball is life-_

_ha. you know that's about basketball right-_

he smirks. _you know if you guys were as good as me, you'd have girls chasing after you too?_

  
it is a mistake. he knows it is before the words leave his mouth but now he's called, it's time for them to show their hands.

the two of them exchange looks and tooru knows he's lost the round. he likes to think hajime's one of the few people who can see through him and it's only because they grew up together, but here they are. makki and mattsun have only know him a year, and they see right through his poker face like it's not there. ah well.

 _i was under the impression oikawa-san would rather they didn't,_ makki says lightly.

a pause. he rotates his head so it's his cheek pressed to the padded floor and he can focus on dust particles and cloth threads that have strayed and gotten themselves lost. _'m not gay,_ he finally mutters. _it's just hajime._

if he were looking, maybe he'd see mattsun nodding, acknowledging, understanding.

_how long?_

tooru has to think about this one. makki might've as well asked ' _when did you know?'_

he breathes out. _don't know._

makki pursues his lips. _you liked him...before you introduced-_

 _yeah,_ he says. and before makki can try to circle around to ask _why_ _,_ he shrugs helplessly. _because i knew he'd like her._

he knew hajime would like the girl too kind to ask for too much time, too much of his affection. too sweet to tell people off when she had every right to, too smart to stick her nose into trouble, too trusting, telling tooru she'd had fleeting crushes on hajime in seventh, eighth and ninth grade. they were a surefire thing, and when she'd told him...he wasn't going to play god and fuck them over out of spite. 

part of him likes that he set hajime up with someone as lovely as her. she's done a lot for both hajime and herself. they probably both have.

so far, makki and mattsun have been swift in knifing him, asking all the right questions. each answer he gives is confirming something he's been busy ignoring...or denying. there's one more to be faced. and it's lil' ol' mattsun who does the final deed.

_are you going to tell him?_

_...nah._

the dust he's been inhaling is probably going to set him off sneezing the entire walk back but whatever.

the reason he wouldn't have tossed his hat into the ring this early, is he _knows_ hajime doesn't feel the same right now. and he's not going to mess their dynamic up.

so there they are. three quiet boys in one quiet house, and all of them are wondering whether tooru's answer will change some day. it might be best if it does, if he's going to be honest. after all, step six is about coming to terms with your issues through interpersonal acknowledgement. 

makki ends up standing up first. _alright._ _get up, men._

 _no tough love please!!_ tooru whines. _i don't wanna get my butt kicked for being a sad sack, makki._

 _team cheer. sad sacks on three?_ mattsun nudges him with a toe. tooru grumbles but he finally props himself up to sit on the couch. there's probably some grime in his hair from the era of ground-kissing. he's not sure what he's expecting exactly but makki gets his arms around him, locking his against his sides. mattsun comes in, after a beat. tooru puts his head on one of their shoulders and breathes.

  
  


_step seven remember the other things you have to deal with. slowly reinvest your focus back into those interests._

this part of the process coincides with seeing less and less of hajime too, and involves reaching the decision the time to make opportunities for himself is ripe.

it's the girls' season, their turn with the gymnasium courts, the equipment. but he catches their coach after one of their practices and asks if he can stay behind - _just for a little, kantou! -_ he'll do their clean up all on his own, he'll lock up the equipment, the gym.

she's forty, with shiny silver in her hair and weakening knees that mean she can't demonstrate spikes for the club anymore, relying on her best players to lead instead. she teaches third-year classes everyday and coaches the girls' team every season. she sees a young man with little to offer asking for a chance

_oikawa-kun, is it?_

_yes,_ he bows, and when he looks up her back in ten feet away and that distance's only growing. the back of her hand is up in a little wave. _don't hurt yourself._

he doesn't. it's a little lonely though, with no seniors calling orders or teammates flanking him on all sides, just a blur of noise in his ears from a pair of cheap earbuds.

one day, two of the girls on the team observe him quietly slipping into the gym after their practice and ask their coach. it's not like he intentionally eavesdrops in case they're talking about him (which they are); gathering balls to line up for serve practice is not a task that requires immersive brain power, and so he multitasks. and hears one of them laughing and the other one exclaiming, _hey, kantou, how come we didn't get this special offer??_

tooru's lips curl in a grin; if he sneaks a look over his shoulder it's to learn they are smirking back.

they introduce themselves shortly (coach mumbles _oh i'd hate for you'd to be a_ _trio_ as she walks away); both wingspikers. both always interested in getting extra practice for volleyball, especially as third years that have both secured school offers. they're a lot of fun and very good. he learns about how they'd like to play in uni but aren't sure they're going to, tips about setter-spiker relations and group attacks, who's a good teacher to teach what subject. they're friendly and happy to pass stuff they've learned off to a junior, a fellow volleyball player.

tooru's grateful for that but beyond that, he's practically _delighted_ they like his company. the pleasant surprise of an unplanned friendship is...well. pleasing. _(you're my little brother now? ok? ok!_ sora says with hearty affection.) (they don't become a 'trio'. but a little later, when their graduation comes around, tooru actually means it when he smiles. _thank you guys for everything. have fun at college for me, okay?_ he gets a friendly shoulder cuff and eyes rolled at him. they exchange contacts, even though tooru's pessimism tells him he's never going to use them. altogether, it's a nice day to be happy for them.)

somedays, mattsun and makki consent to practicing late with him instead. on one day, it ends up being the five up them playing together.

he hates himself a little for wishing there were six people on the court.

maybe hajime reads minds or something but the next day, tooru's executing his new float serve. the toss has finally stopped being shaky and he cheers a little when it glides down the lane.

 _wow._ _that was impressive_.

tooru whirls around. if he was a little more observant when things are about him, he'd have known that wasn't the only serve that had gone noticed by the boy standing at the gym entrance, just a little ways behind him. hajime walks forward. he's wearing sweats, a t-shirt, looking around, taking in the balls scattered across the court. he looks like he's here to play.

 _...hi._ tooru says, bending over to pick up the last ball he has lying within reach. he's a little too jerky- his earbuds slip out and hit the ground first. he thinks about trying to untangle them and stuffing them back into his ears but the music's only there to help him concentrate...and the most distracting person in his life has just walked in the room.

_how long have you been working on that serve?_

tooru swallows, looking for confidence that's not there. _long enough, i guess,_ he says, tossing the ball high into the air. but he's too nervous, too tense. his jump is off balance, the swing is wrong- the ball smashes into the net on his side and drops to the floor.

 _not long enough_ , he mutters to himself. _shit._

hajime scoops up the ball closest to him and says, _would you toss for me. i haven't been practicing as much as i should._

 _it is off_ _season_ , tooru comments, mild. there might be a little too much snark in his voice though- shit.

hajime gives him the ball through an underhanded throw and stalks away from the serve line. tooru shuts up and follows him down to the net. the wing spiker's not warmed up, but he's eager, and enthusiasm makes up a good hit, straight down the court. 

_nice one,_ he murmurs.

_right back at you._

they play through a few more hits, working in a steady, familiar rhythm-that feels like it's just a tiny bit off-key. he can't help it. he's happy hajime is here with him, but he's already resentful that he won't be soon enough.

_so, iwa-chan. what are you doing here?_

_ah. matsukawa said you could use a receiver. save you a little bit of running back and forth?_

mattsun said that, did he? tooru would have placed his bet on makki but okay.

hajime continues. _he mentioned you've been practicing a lot?_

_but of course, iwa-chan. gotta beat ushiwaka next year. you know this._

hajime dips his head.

 _hows mamori-chan doing?_ he finally asks. 'how have you been' would have been too distant and it's not like there's much hajime's been up to anything new so he couldn't pick a different subtopic either. so he's so temporarily satisfied with his diction. ~~he's lying, he just wants to know what he wants to know.~~

 _ah,_ hajime puts his hand on the back of his neck. _i, uh. i think she's going to break up with me._ he's not looking at tooru, like he thinks he'll laugh at him.

tooru's taken aback. this is the last thing he's expecting and he has to bat off the first instinct to tell hajime that's probably not it (it'd be a blind claim considering he hasn't been keeping up with either of them and no one needs false hope) and the second one which is to offer hajime if he wants a hug- iwaizumi might just sock him in the jaw if he thinks tooru's taunting him.

 _iwa-chan._ he tries. _do you want to talk about it? i'm usually a decent listener when i want to be, haha. but we...we don't have to. we could just, i don't know, play? i can give you a distraction._

 _that'd be good, i think._ the ambiguity makes tooru anxious for a second, but then hajime is adding, _the, uh, playing. i don't think there's too much to say about the other thing._ he's biting his lip the way he does when he doesn't know how to ask for something.

 _you can text me if you change your mind,_ _hajime_ , he murmurs. he gets a smile, a grateful little thing, flashed for that.

they play quietly and when it's finally too late for them to stay any longer, they pack up. 'are we walking home together' becomes a question he doesn't need to ask anymore. when they're walking, hajime still looks a little downcast. tooru bumps him with his shoulder. a reassurance of sorts. a moment, and then hajime bumps him back. 

when he's lying in his bed further into the night he thinks about whether or not he has the energy to be mad, mad over the fact that hajime shows up this once, and the only remotely substantial thing they get near conversation- is a problem with his girlfriend. sure, tooru supposes he's not being fair. he supposes _one_ does get busy putting in time to save a relationship. but he's not feeling very grown up and there's no one there to tell him he's being a brat.

in the end, he doesn't. because the little hajime had said still sounded like he loved her.

(he's glad he doesn't, when hajime ends up showing to a few more of the late night practices and they're both deadly serious about playing hard).

hajime doesn't take up his offer until another day, but when he does, their talk begins with this: _she's just kinda been drifting away?_ tooru does his best. it's hard to tell with people as a generality, but tooru thinks he's done a bang up job in the end, because hajime leaves it with _thanks oikawa,_ and hajime almost always means the things he says.

even better than that, tooru thinks at last, he's making progress with his process (of switching his feelings to silent) because he hardly though about irony when he was replying and he's almost approaching vaguely satisfied with his work with volleyball. success in both reducing the concentration of his feelings and more effective usage of his time and energy.

(of course he considers whether or not he's fooling himself! of course, he wonders if he's being repressive and the only reason he isn't freaking out is because of what hajime had said, not what he hadn't.

 _"i think she's going to break up with me."_ and not "i think i might love her."

the answer to his own question is he truly doesn't know. he's not very definite about much, of course, but to play devil's advocate, he's _somewhat-nearly-almost -sure_ he doesn't want them to break up. because hajime sure isn't in love with him right now, and at least one of them should be in a happy relationship. sort of.)

_step seven-point-five. although you've shifted focus away by putting your soul into work, it's now time to give the rest of life a turn at kicking your ass._

see, when tooru wakes up, it's an okay day. but that's gone by noon.

these days, there's less yelling at home, but nothing is okay. is there a point in studying when he doesn't really care where he ends up, because wherever it is, he's going end up so unhappy, he'll have killed himself by thirty-five anyway. but if he doesn't, they just keep pissing on him. their arguments stretch past late nights until they're all tired and he has himself a miserable time of thinking about ways of getting himself to sleep until he has. then in the morning, they'll pretend things are fine. maybe they're guilty. like hell, he could figure out what they're thinking. but they pretend time's rewind and tooru's busy enough that in a few days, a week, he's forgotten what the argument was besides the gist of it. he'll forget what brought angry tears to his eyes and frustration hot and heavy in his throat. 

the guilt to please the pleasant adults working the house for him is overwhelming. _he'll work harder_ , he thinks, all the way until there's just _one_ more reminder why he hasn't wanted to.

 _i'm not going to be like them,_ except he is. (five-to-nine job, twenty-four-seven worries. dissatisfaction. boredom. lack of laughter. lack of love)

he might just be and it kills him.

matsukawa is a blessing but the man is never on when tooru needs him to be and hanamaki's shit with expressing compassion unless they're right in front of each other and he can give tooru a cuff on the head or a heavy hug. neither of them are the person that tooru wants to hear from.

he thinks about calling.

he doesn't call.

an hour blown on watching 'comfort' shows stored for nights like these, except there's no comfort- only vindictive joy in contradicting the need to study, battling against the anger of wasting his time when he's going to end up wanting to have done a useful task, and then fatigue washes in. he's tired of feeling, holy shit. there's no way to win, is there.

so now there's desperation, in checking his phone, looking for a new video from the documentary series on woodland birds or an article about the v-league's newest players to look out for- _anything_ for him to reach out and grab onto, so that he can hold on, hold out. it turns out there's no new content. but there is a text that wasn't there before.

> iwa-chan: _hey. are we going to hang out when school ends?  
>   
>   
> _

it takes three seconds to compose himself and four to compose a text. _i don't know. are we?_ backspace, backspace. too aggressive. no good.  
  


> _you: if you're down_   
>    
> 

> iwa-chan: _great_
> 
> iwa-chan: _sorry i've been so busy lately_
> 
> iwa-chan: _been trying to get as much time as possible  
> _
> 
> iwa-chan: _mamori's leaving miyangi_

tooru blinks and before he knows it, the phone is pressed to his ear. he hasn't felt very strong lately, but he wants to tell hajime that he's got his back. if hajime needs him, then tooru can do just about anything.

 _hey, you,_ he says, and then they end up talking at the same time, a jumble of words. _sorry, iwa-chan. i didn't hear that. what d'you say?_

 _i asked,_ hajime says, his voice low, familiar, steady in tooru's ear. _what's wrong._ _and don't lie, okay?_

tooru opens his mouth but with no words to give away, closes it again. there's a sort of warmth curling in his stomach.

 _if you think_ _t_ _hat i can't tell you're upset. you're as dumb as you are annoying._ hajime rumbles. _you can't just call to try to help me with my shit and pretend you're okay when you're not. 'cause guess what?? this thing goes two ways, asshole._ _now tell me what's wrong._

 _...you didn't even ask me what i said,_ tooru murmurs, because he's still a little stunned from hajime's...whatever that was.

 _sue me, jackass._ _i'm still waiting for an answer._ they're both stubborn fucks but they know hajime can outdo tooru when he really wants to. to be honest, tooru doesn't even want that to be necessary. so for once in his life, he makes himself breathe; starts to relax when there's every reason not to. 

_just the usual stuff,_ he admits. _grades..._ _school...i wasn't really listening, haha..._

hajime makes a disgruntled sound.

 _what?_ it's rhetorical.

 _nothing,_ growls hajime. he can't help tooru; he's helpless and he hates it, but that's just how things are and there's nothing to do about it. tooru pictures him scowling, eyebrows all knit up over his forehead, and he can't help it- he laughs.

now it's hajime asking, _what?_

 _nothing,_ tooru says, still smiling. 

_okay. well we're eating lunch tomorrow,_ hajime informs him.

_you know i don't skip meals, iwa-chan! both my moms would kill me~_

_i'll punch you once for every smartass comment you make. try me. go on._

tooru sits on his bed and waits. still smiling.

apparently hajime's satisified. _so i'll see you tomorrow, right?_

he hums noncommittally. of course he'd like that but _what about mamori?_ what about 'getting as much time as possible?'

 _i'll see her after school_. hajime pauses. _we're good and stuff. when i said- i just wanted to tell you._

 _ye,_ he says. he knows what hajime means. _so. i'll text the boys? iwaizumi hajime gracing us with his presence?_

_the smartass comments' counter is active, you clown._

they sober after a little bit. hajime asks if he wants to talk about it or if he could use a distraction or if he just wants to talk but not about it, and they end up kind of doing a little bit of everything. it's nice. the next day, lunch together works out to be just as nice. tooru actually _recognizes_ that he feels happy.

_step nine. fall in love with him all over again._

**Author's Note:**

> edit: I dunno how to say this nicely but. the ratio of kudos to subscriptions on this fic is hella low, even for me. and this number is like all the numbers for fics, whether it's comments or kudos. it's really discouraging, as a writer.
> 
> it always makes me sad because if readers were a little more interactive then writers would write more and it would just keep building up. more creativity, happier fandom.
> 
> so go show some love


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